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The Window (poem)

Updated on August 28, 2014

A window stirring calling him return

The seasons’ winds had sprinkled it with dew

Reminder of the dreams he stumbled through

And scents of times his heart could still discern


Familiar sun looks different today

The window draws rich visions of its own

With colors of the feelings he had known

And treasure which would never pass away


He stares beyond what weary eyes now see

As shadows calling out from all around

His window crying hope can yet be found

He calls her name for peace and clarity


He closed his eyes to life and all its charms

Such fullness ever after will abide

Yet no one was there with him when he died

Through window he is in his lover’s arms


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    • profile image

      Patricia Hirte 3 years ago

      Dear Martin,

      I am very difficult to like any type of writing but your poem is very beautiful! It "opened my window"! It should be selling lots!

      All the best to you and your writing for 2015!


    • vkwok profile image

      Victor W. Kwok 3 years ago from Hawaii

      This was a very sorrowful, but beautiful poem, Martin.

    • Faith Reaper profile image

      Faith Reaper 3 years ago from southern USA

      Profound and haunting.

      God bless you.

    • bravewarrior profile image

      Shauna L Bowling 3 years ago from Central Florida

      How sad. Thankfully, the window brought his best memories to him as he died. No one should have to die alone.